


Kiss Snow White

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: Dick Grayson Shorts [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 00:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: While working with a client, Slade finds Nightwing in a glass coffin, a the victim of a drug whose only cure is "true love's kiss" in true Snow White fashion





	Kiss Snow White

Slade, eloquent as always, said the first thing that came to mind. “What the fuck?”

His client chuckled. “You like it?” he asked, looking away from Slade and back towards the clear, glass coffin. “Thought it was fitting for such a pretty birdie.”

“So he’s dead then,” Slade asked. “You killed Nightwing.”

“No,” the client said, heaving a sigh and walking over to place a hand on the glass coffin, gazing down at the acrobat inside. “Just a powerful drug. It’ll slow his heartbeat until it stops. Or.” the client looked back at Slade. “He suffocates.”

“The air will be thin in there, but not non existent,” Slade pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” the client said, grinning up at Slade. “That’s where you come in.”

“Oh?” Slade asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna bury him,” the client said. “And make sure good ol’ Batman doesn’t know up.”

“He will.”

“I presume this drug is fatal?” Slade asked. “Since you seem less than concerned that Batman will arrive.”

“The intent of the drugs is to keep him asleep until he dies,” the client said. “But there is a cure.”

“Is there?” Slade asked.

The client hummed. “True love’s kiss,” he said before breaking down in laughter. “Nah, I’m kidding. Well, not really. He does have to be kissed but it has to be by someone he’s got feelings for. You know, like Snow White.”

Slade hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I see.”

“Sir!” one of the men shouted from the other end of the warehouse. “Batman is here!”

“Fuck!” the client shouted. He shot a glance back at Nightwing before pointing a finger at Deathstroke. “Do not let anyone get to him and don’t breathe a word about the cure.”

He took off running and after a few moments, Slade was alone. He stared down at the body in the glass coffin for a few moments before heaving a sigh and walking over.

He was genuinely surprised to find the glass lid of the coffin was nailed down and with nothing to protect Grayson save for his suit, Slade couldn’t just smash the top of the lid.

He was racing against the drug but at least not against suffocation which slowed things down. From what he could tell and what he was guessing, it hadn’t been very long since Nightwing had been drugged.

Which gave Slade at  _ least  _ six hours before the acrobat’s heart stopped from the drugs. He took a step back and just barely had a moment to hear the sound of the safety being removed from a gun before he was dodging the bullet aimed for his head.

“I should have known you were here,” Red Hood snarled, gun still aimed at Slade’s head as he slowly made his way over to the coffin. He spared half a moment to look over. “Holy fuck,” he whispered.

“My reaction precisely,” Slade said, hands clasped behind his back. “He won’t suffocate but we  _ are  _ running out of time to get him the cure for the drug.”

Red Hood obviously didn’t want to believe him but something one out because he holstered his gun and stalked over to analyze the lid of the coffin.

“It’s bolted down,” Slade told him helpfully.

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarled, running his gloved fingers along where the lid met the bed of the coffin. “Get your ass over here and help me.”

“Why should I?” Slade asked. “I’m being paid to keep you and the others away.”

“Not doing a very good job,” Red Hood grumbled.

“My priorities changed,” Slade replied cryptically.

“Okay, while I work on this,” Red Hood said. “How about you tell me what the cure is.”

“True love’s kiss.”

Red Hood snorted. “You’re shitting me,” he grumbled.

“I’m being serious.”

Red Hood went still for a moment. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Slade frowned. “Can’t be that hard to find someone the kid cares about.”

“You said true love though,” Red Hood pointed out as he continued to work at the coffin. “So does it have to be someone he loves?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, see,” Red Hood said. “He doesn’t tell us about people he really falls in love with.”

Well shit. “So you don’t have any idea who it could be?”

“Nightwing has loved a lot of people,” Red Hood sighed as he finally unlocked the coffin, easing the glass lid off and letting it shatter harmlessly on the floor. “But we don’t know who, if anyone, he loves.”

“And since the drugs will stop his heart without a cure, you don’t have a lot of time to find someone,” Slade guessed.

Red Hood looked over at him. “The fuck do you mean, you? Oh no, Wilson, you’re helping us.”

Slade raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“You were fully ready to kill him, the least you could do is help us find a way to cure him.”

“I had no intention of letting it get that far.”

“And I don’t believe that for a second,” Red Hood snapped, the arrival of Robin, Red Robin, and Batman being the only thing keeping him from charging at the mercenary.

Good. Slade didn’t want to have to off one of Grayson’s brothers.

“Report,” Batman demanded, not casting Slade a look. Slade knew better than to think the bat hadn’t seen him but he also had enough common sense to not speak up and draw unwanted attention.

“Is Grayson dead?” Robin asked and Slade was reminded of how young the boy really was, despite the training and blood soaking his hands from his time with his mother.

“No, drugged,” Red Hood demanded. “But he’ll be dead soon if we don’t get the cure. Which you can’t make,” he added quickly as Batman turned and made to leave.

“Then what is it?” Red Robin asked, walking over to Nightwing and lifting one of his wrists, moving the sleeve of his suit to get a pulse. “His pulse is too slow.”

“Yeah, cause we’re running out of time,” Red Hood snapped. “He needs true love’s kiss or some shit like that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Damian snapped.

“Yeah?” Red Hood asked. “And so is a murderous clown. This is Gotham, kid, anything can happen.”

“So then who?” Red Robin asked. “Who’s his true love?”

Red Hood was quiet. “I don’t think anyone right now,” he replied softly. “I think he’s been wallowing in his misery alone for awhile.”

_ For fuck’s sake, Wilson.  _ Slade’s mind snapped at himself as he watched the batboys bicker while Red Robin dutifully hovered over Nightwing, struggling to keep him stable.  _ You  _ know  _ damn well you’re his ‘true love’ if that shit exists. Are you really going to just stand there and let the kid die? _

Good question. Slade hadn’t actually decided yet. He knew the kid wasn’t ready to out himself to his family as  _ engaged  _ to Slade fucking Wilson, AKA Deathstroke The Terminator. But what was more important? The kid’s secret or his life?

Heaving a quiet sigh, Slade took off his mask and pushed his hair out of the way, purposefully shoving Batman, Robin, and Red Hood out of his way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Deathstroke?” Robin demanded.

“Saving your brother’s life,” Slade replied as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Nightwing’s lips.

Predictably, he was grabbed by Batman and - if he hadn’t had proper training - would have been flung across the room. Instead, he easily slipped the hold and flipped out of the way. Batman made to rush towards him, only to stop when Nightwing woke with a strangled gasp and choke, nearly falling out of the open coffin as he doubled over.

But he was breathing. His heart was beating. Slade could leave.

He did. 

No one noticed.

 

…………

 

Three Days Later

“I’m surprised daddy’s letting his precious birdie out of his cage,” Slade said, approaching the figure on the roof.

Nightwing chuckled softly, turning to face Slade who had already removed his mask.

“Batman doesn’t own me,” he said, a smile in his words.

“No, but he likes to think he does,” Slade replied, walking over to wrap an arm around Dick’s slender waist, drawing the acrobat in for a deep, gentle kiss. He pulled back, smiling down at him, just slightly. “I’m surprised you’re not being tracked or followed.”

“Oh I probably am,” Nightwing said, nodding. “Hood was trailing me earlier but got bored.”

“Got bored,” Slade repeated, not believing the words for a second.

Nightwing grinned. “I may have helped him along.”

“And does daddybats have any trackers in your suit?”

“Nope,” Nightwing replied, pressing himself more solidly into Slade’s arms. “Oracle helped me get rid of them all before patrol. And she gave me a new mask. One that only sends the camera feedback to her.”

“So she’s the only one who knows you’re with me?” Slade asked in a low, almost growling voice.

Nightwing grinned. “I’m all yours, my love.”

“Good,” Slade said, possessively tightening his grip. “Because we have a wedding to plan.”


End file.
